The Art of Real Estate
by FairyTale87
Summary: Chuck Bass could buy up all of New York City if he wanted to, but there was one piece of property he could never acquire with money: Blair Waldorf's heart. AU, somewhere during S1.
1. Scoping Out the Land

_The Art of Real Estate_

_One_

'_Scoping Out the Land' _

_Summary: Chuck Bass could buy up all of New York City if he wanted to, but there was one piece of property he could never acquire with money: Blair Waldorf's heart. _

He watched how Nate Archibald's lips pressed against Blair's tenderly, and he noticed how her wondrous eyelashes fluttered. He'd never known such love—never encountered someone who embodied the emotion quite like Blair Waldorf did. But she was drawn to sparkly things. She glistened in harmony with Nate's shimmer. Chuck Bass could never bear a torch fiery enough to catch her caramel gaze. He was banished to the corners where the shadows eagerly consumed him. He could never measure up to Nate Archibald's gold: he was faultless, well groomed, and graced with the shine of loyalty. Chuck was tarnished silver—who would ever choose _that_ over gold? Certainly not Blair Waldorf. To her, Chuck Bass barely existed. He felt like a meager fly around her. She made him feel poor. No matter how many hundreds might be stuffed in his wallet, no matter how much of the city his father owned, Blair would never look at him in the way she looked at Nate. The Golden Boy was old money, bred from a legacy of proper perfection. He was destined for a girl like Blair. And Chuck; Chuck was destined to watch from the sidelines as his best friend ran his hands up and down the one thing the lonely Bass had ever loved. It didn't seem fair. But then again, in the Upper East Side, fairness was the first casualty in the social war where guns were money, and bombs were blackmail. Love and fairness had no place in a world like that; and it was the only world Chuck Bass had ever known. He shouldn't want her, shouldn't wonder what her proudly pursed lips would feel like against his skin. But Chuck couldn't help himself. Blair was a mystery he could never solve. He'd never find out the mystique that hid under her layers of designer clothes, or what her hair would look like when she let it flow wildly out of her headband.

He leaned against the brick wall behind him with an abrupt thud. Blair's eyes never left Nate's as their lips finally parted. She deserved so much more than lackluster blue eyes and a smile that could never be purely genuine. Blair Waldorf should be blessed with a symphony instead of polite laughter; two scorching stars instead of Nate Archibald's eyes that would always be secretly set on Serena; and a smile that could put into graceful dance all of the magic that made Blair who she was. But as long as she looked to the ungrateful Nathaniel with such loving eyes, she'd never get it. Nate may have put the blindfold on her, but it was her decision not to untie the knot. And that ghastly blindfold had only one enemy it targeted to keep out: Chuck Bass. Usually he could buy his way into people's good graces, or have such dirt on them they had no choice but to let him in. But Blair Waldorf wasn't most people. It sickened him to think such a cliché, but he couldn't deny that it was true. She was the one girl in all of Constance who hadn't fallen for Chuck in some way or another. Blair Waldorf was the last angel he could tangibly see. And for once, it was the one pure white being he did not wish to taint. With her, everything was different; he was different. But that was only in his dreams. Because when reality came home in the form of the jealous wife, she drove the mistress of dreams out of the house for what seemed like eternity.

And then she looked in his direction, and the worlds of fantasy and reality almost fused together. Whether she'd heard the rustling of a leaf on the schoolyard ground, or felt a gust of wind, Chuck didn't really care. The fact was, she was looking right in his direction, her eyes filled with love, loyalty, understanding, support, genuineness, and desire. But there was one emotion that swam in her eyes that Chuck Bass could not shake: vacancy. Her gaze full of every piece of kindness he had ever desired was spewed into the wall behind him. He was invisible to her. Her warm and sweet eyes were beginning to match her icy and sour skin. But the skin was lovely, Chuck thought to himself as Blair looked back to Nate. It might as well be the drapes of fine white silk Aphrodite had worn, as it laid there so gracefully around her beautifully formed bone structure. That kind of perfect could never be Chuck Bass'. It was only with matters of Blair Waldorf that he used the word 'never' so often. In any other aspect of his life, he loathed the word; it had no place being in his vocabulary. But goddamn Blair had to prove him wrong; defy everything that had defined him for the past seventeen years. And it was for that reason that he loved her. It wasn't just a chase, nor was it merely a game. It was Chuck Bass realizing that there was one person in all of Manhattan, and all of the world for that matter, that could see past his smoke screens. Whether it was consciously or not. He felt her eyes meet his—genuinely looking into them, seeming to see past all of the stony exterior he put so expertly. It was a different gaze than she'd given to Nate: it was a gaze that said '_I will not be conquered' _yet held a small little wink tempting him to try just that. Chuck smirked, and he knew no one could be pure all the way to the core. Not even Blair Waldorf. But the gaze was gone just as quickly as it had come. Chuck Bass though, was far from done with Queen B.

* * *

So this is my first time ever writing _Gossip Girl_, so please tell me what I did right, what I did wrong, and any ideas you may have. I'm all ears! Well, eyes, in this case I suppose. I don't know if this will stay a one-shot or if I'll expand it, but I'd love your input! And I'm sorry it's short; I'm just so paranoid about attempting to write the very complicated characters of the show. Haha. But let me know your thoughts and if you want me to continue.

_Reviews are love! _


	2. Shakespeare Plays a Wicked Game

_The Art of Real Estate_

_Two_

'_Shakespeare Plays a Wicked Game'_

_Summary: Chuck Bass could buy up all of New York City if he wanted to, but there was one piece of property he could never acquire with money: Blair Waldorf's heart._

He checked his watch so he'd no longer have to look at Blair giggling at something Nathaniel had said. Archibald had never been known for his humor, and his girlfriend was far too smart of a girl to think that he was. The only time Chuck ever found his best friend the slightest bit funny was when then joint was talking rather than the boy. Chuck Bass couldn't understand it: how Blair could choose Nathaniel over him. The privileged Archibald was all shallow smiles and numb agreements; there was nothing deep running through that tiny brain of his. But Chuck was the black sheep, and Little Bo Blair only had eyes for her gleaming white lamb Nate. He hated everything about the situation. No one had ever bound down Chuck Bass in unbreakable chains, leaving him at the mercy of a mere girl; and a virgin for that matter. It wasn't in his personality description to bow down. But Blair Waldorf made him bow—enticed him with her mesmerizing caramel eyes. Damn her.

"So I was thinking," Blair cooed sweetly, and Chuck's eyes shot up instantly to the couple, "you, me, _Breakfast at Tiffany's_… see you at eight?" Her right leg was crossed over her left, making her plaid skirt raise a little higher up on her thigh, as she leaned her hands against the stone table she sat on. Her breasts were accentuated in her white button down shirt, and Chuck felt his heart rate speed up rapidly. Nate barely seemed to take notice of her majestic form as he stood in front of her, and Chuck was about ready to strangle him. Nathaniel had never had a pristine taste in art; no respect for beautiful creation, whether it be in paintings or women. Chuck clenched his jaw. He'd say yes to Blair in a heartbeat. But she wasn't asking him; she was asking _dear Nathaniel. _

Nate gave her one of his signature smiles that said '_I'm giving you the time of day, but you don't really have my heart'_ and he sighed. "Actually Blair," he returned, saying her name in almost dry harshness, "I can't. My mother has a dinner planned tonight." Nate gave Blair a shrug as if to convince her that he truly was bummed they couldn't hang out. But Chuck knew better. Yet Blair's eyes still glistened with all the acceptance in the world.

"Oh, that sounds absolutely lovely! What time will you pick me up?" She sounded so eager, so happy, so pleased. Her smile was flawless gold, her teeth impeccable diamonds. What Chuck would give to have her look at him like that…

The beauty was wasted though—Nate didn't care for any of Blair's unique splendor, it seemed. What a tragic loss. Chuck ran his tongue over his teeth, kicking himself for becoming so gushy over a girl. Girls were for fun; for entertainment. Or, that's what they _had _been, before Blair had stolen his heart and ran away with it.

"It's just for family," Nate replied coldly, his eyes losing their Ken doll shimmer. In that moment, Chuck witnessed how fast Blair Waldorf could fall; how swiftly the light could be stripped from her face. Her expressive lips flat-lined into strong despair and the thousand dollar lip gloss she wore now seemed worthless.

"O—oh, of course… it is." Blair dropped Nate's gaze, and Chuck wanted no more than to run over to her, lift her chin up, and insist that she was worth everything in the world. But he didn't; he couldn't.

"I really am sorry," Nate said shallowly, but Blair still looked back up to him hopefully. "Maybe some other time." With that, he took a few steps back, checking the time. "I have to get to class. See you later, Blair." He leaned in, giving her a quick peck on the forehead, eyes perfectly open, before dashing off to class. She was left sitting there, utterly in ruins. All of the mythical Roman magnificence that was Blair Waldorf was left to crumble into the dry, dead ground. Even her Ice Queen exterior couldn't shield the hurt from Chuck. He'd perfected that look long before Blair even knew what true pain was. He pushed himself off the wall, walking over to her, the cocky Bass returning to his former glory.

"Waldorf," he drawled somewhere in between taunt and desire. His seductively narrowed gaze met her doe eyes, and he inwardly felt like he was raping innocence itself. White was always the easiest color to stain.

"Not now, Bass," she replied tightly, uncrossing her now shunned legs and stepping down gracefully from the table. Chuck tried to keep his composure. She was so close to him, so vulnerable… "because unlike you, I actually intend to finish high school without having to buy myself a diploma." The glare she gave him was the one that had won her the title of Queen B, and it was a glare even the invincible Chuck Bass couldn't help but shiver slightly at. Or maybe it was the pent up sexual desire in her eyes that made him shiver; maybe it was a mix of both. He couldn't really decide.

By the time he had begun to form a reply, she had already brushed past him and towards second period: British Literature. Chuck paused a moment, trying to recall how he knew that. And then it hit him: that was his second period too. Rolling his eyes, he sulked off to class, smacking himself inwardly for not shooting back a witty reply when he could. He was losing his touch when it came to Blair; and that was one thing he'd never allow.

* * *

"'What's to be done?'" a student quoted from Macbeth, and Chuck eyed the guy curiously. He'd never seen him before. Well, half the people in his grade he didn't choose to notice; they'd never met his high standards. The guy was certainly into Shakespeare though, that was obvious. Even the consciously oblivious Bass could see that.

"Blair," Mr. Geller said, "could you pick up where Mr. Humphrey left off?" _Humphrey… Humphrey…_ it didn't ring a bell. But Chuck didn't dwell on it for too long. It was Blair's turn to speak. He flipped his book open, glancing to the person beside him for the page number. Everyone seemed to be busy taking notes, so Chuck decided there was nothing better to do while he listened to Blair speak. Taking the pen from behind his left ear, he made random underlines on the page, not even bothering to read it. Blair would serenade him with the lines. Chuck kept sliding his watch up and down his wrist or to the side, since it got in his way so often as he wrote. The only reason why he'd even put it on his left hand was because that was the wrist Nate put it on; and Blair thought the kid could do no wrong. It had all made much more sense when Chuck didn't think about why he did what he did. But what was perfectly clear to him was that he was trying to be Nate. Chuck Bass, _the _Chuck Bass, was taking tips and inspiration from Nate Archibald: the Golden Boy. It was sickening; all the way to the core, despite their close friendship. Staring at Blair's chocolate curls though, it all seemed worth it somehow.

"Of course," Blair said pleasantly, and Chuck bit his lip. "'Be innocent of the knowledge, dearest chuck'…" and that's when Chuck's body froze. The way she'd drawn out the 'ch' made him tingle as he pictured her tongue forming the sound on the roof of her mouth. And how she'd transformed the 'k' into a dagger stabbing at the air was almost too much for him to keep his control. No one had ever been able to turn him on by saying his name. But Blair Waldorf said it with such emotion, that it was hard not to think of the name as sex itself. Blair had such a power over Chuck.

Never in his life did he think he'd love Shakespeare as much as he did in this moment. The words sounded like redemption, coming from Blair's blessed lips like a hymn for the forgotten. Her voice had always been a sort of musical hum that had a knack for lulling the devil brooding darkly within him, and as Shakespeare's luxurious lines flooded from her mouth, it felt like a full on exorcism. The feeling was exhilarating, and Chuck tightened his grip around his pen, digging a deep black hole into the page. _Restraint, Bass, restraint… _

He sat right behind her in class, and had memorized how her shoulders rose and fell with her breathing. And as he eyed her while she read, her breath was perfectly steady, never missing a beat or quivering in the slightest. Blair Waldorf was born to rule; born to be noticed. Chuck could give her that light, that attention, if she'd only look at him. Genuinely gaze into his eyes to see what true love looked like. Because she'd never find it in Nate, no matter how hard or desperately she searched. Chuck was incapable of loving most things, so the fact that Blair possessed such a hold over him was reason enough to call what she and he had true, great love. But a one sided love would not be written in history; it would parish before it even began. Chuck Bass broke the rules; broke tradition. He wouldn't let what he had with Blair die—he'd do the exact opposite.

As he decided that, Blair stopped speaking, signaling the end of the scene and in turn, the end of the period. She rose with pride from her seat, and if Chuck didn't know her as well as he did, he would never had suspected that Nathaniel Archibald had crushed her only an hour ago. She was a powerful one: a tigress to Chuck's fierce lion. Together, they'd be invincible. He followed close behind her as they exited the classroom, formulating what he'd say to her.

* * *

First off, I want to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, and subscribed to this story; it really means a lot to me. For future chapters, I intend them to be longer, I'm just trying to get used to writing the fandom. I'm still really paranoid about accurate characterization and such. So please, tell me how I did, and any ideas/suggestions you have. I love getting input from you guys: it's what keeps me going. Haha.

_Reviews are love!_


	3. Lancelot's Armor, Traded For Bass' Scarf

_The Art of Real Estate_

_Three_

'_Lancelot's Armor, Traded For Bass' Scarf'_

_Summary: Chuck Bass could buy up all of New York City if he wanted to, but there was one piece of property he could never acquire with money: Blair Waldorf's heart._

_Quick note: In the last chapter, I made Chuck and Blair have a class together, and I just remembered that Constance and St. Jude's are two separate schools and not coed. So, I'm sorry for that; but just go with it, haha. This is an AU story… ;)_

She felt him behind her, his lurking shadow somehow making her feel both lost and safe all at once. It was dangerous being around him—he had a way of seducing her into becoming the person she tried so desperately to hide beneath the surface. Blair wished uneasily for Nate to be beside her: he always kept her from giving into the temptation of Chuck Bass. But here, in the virtually vacant hallway, there was no Nate Archibald to serve as King Arthur, keeping his dear queen from the enticement of Lancelot. Blair smiled a tad, the image of Chuck as the valiant knight only something she'd ever pictured in her dreams. Whether or not Chuck and the rest of the world believed it, Blair thought—no, she knew, that he was a knight. Maybe not the knight in shining armor that Disney dubbed the perfect man, but Chuck Bass certainly could be a savior; whilst being saved. God, was he a complicated one. But that's what Blair loved (she had surpassed 'liked' by the ninth grade) about him: he wasn't two dimensional, with all his personality out there in the open. Chuck Bass made people work for his trust, his respect, and most of all, his love. The last one left a hole in Blair's smile. She would never earn his love; nor should she want to. But she did, and it would never be hers. He always looked through her. Maybe it was just Blair's own self consciousness talking, or her paranoia of being unloved, but Chuck Bass didn't seem a loyal servant to her or her cause. Or, if he was, he had an extremely twisted way of showing it. The dark knight had a mesmerizing knack for making her think, rethink, and then think again. It was never a dull time being around the great Chuck Bass—he made sure of that. And a part of Blair wanted to run from that; from the constant mystery of what would come next. When she looked into his eyes, she couldn't see his future: couldn't see the image of the college he was sure to attend, the ring he would without a doubt purchase for his fiancé; where he would solidly be in ten years. It was almost exhilarating. Like stealing your father's Ferrari and taking it for a spin in the dead of night, horrifically over the speed limit. Chuck's smile was the streetlights; his dark eyebrows the open road; his laugh the sound of the powerful engine; and his eyes—those deep, dark, caramel black eyes, were the midnight sky hovering above her. Blair felt a buzz in her chest, and she remembered that Chuck was still behind her. Just simply knowing that he was there, looking at her, was enough to make her swoon. Blair wanted to check her hair, just glide a small finger over it to see if the curls were still intact, but that would translate into her actually caring what Chuck thought of her. She bit her tongue, and kept her composure. Blair Waldorf could _not _fall for Chuck Bass; especially not in the halls of Constance. Not while in the realm she reigned over with Nate Archibald.

Turning around sharply, she gave a dark yet friendly glare to Chuck. He didn't even flinch. "You're following me." Blair said it dully, as if it didn't fluster her in the slightest. The perks to lying…

"It's a one-way street, Waldorf," he shot back, his voice never raising or lowering. It was eternal blitheness as per usual, with its pinch of cynicism. The sound Blair had learned to love to hate. She gave him a cold smirk, a bit of her prissiness as the cherry on top. She hadn't meant to look at him like that; it was the look she gave her minions when they'd done something to irk her, yet she had no power to point it out frankly. Chuck Bass certainly wasn't a minion. If anything, he was her partner in crime. But she'd never admit that. She erased the thought quickly.

"That doesn't mean there isn't such thing as personal space, _Bass_," she replied in sour sweetness. He really did bring out the devil in her. It often crossed her mind that she was only such an icy queen to inadvertently impress Chuck; let him know she was worth paying attention to. A force to be reckoned with.

"Most girls _lust _for the closeness," he said seductively quiet, inching closer to her. It took her a moment to process that his movements were ones she should be appalled at. Blair hardened her face, and stepped back.

"_Most _girls; not me," she replied. Scrunching her face, she tried to hide the enjoyment in her eyes. Nate was never like this. Sometimes he was too perfect. And perfection rarely corresponded with exhilaration.

"What, Blair Waldorf doesn't _yearn_ for her boyfriend's so desired attention?" Chuck raised an eyebrow. It wasn't even a question. Blair picked up on that quickly. Now, a genuine angered face found its way on her features. He was calling her desperate. Even Chuck Bass couldn't do that.

"No, no," she said dismissively, "that's already been won. It's you that yearn for _my _attention." Her smirk was a powerful one. One that bore a crown of such wondrous gold, Chuck could never attempt to top it.

"You're the one that started the conversation," he pointed out matter-of-factly, "I was simply walking down the hallway." And there it came: the smirk of dark royalty that ruled the underworld; the smirk the pure Blair Waldorf couldn't reach. She huffed sharply. "So, the Kiss on the Lips party tomorrow should be an absolute blast," he continued monotonously with a subtle wink. Before Blair could fire in response, he brushed past her, their shoulders making contact, and he was gone. Just like that she'd let him win. Did this mean waging war against Chuck Bass for the protection of her crown?

* * *

Okay, so it's short; painfully short. But I am _so _scared about this C+B conversation. I wasn't sure how to go about it at all. So please oh please, if there's ever a chapter you review, let it be this one. I need as much input as possible. Also any ideas you guys have. Because I still don't have a solid plot, ha. I promise though, that future chapters will be longer (I know I keep saying that, but it's true! Lol).

_Reviews are love!_


	4. Sweet Petitioners for Kisses

_The Art of Real Estate_

_Four_

'_Sweet Petitioners for Kisses'_

She ran her hands down her stomach, smoothing the silk emerald dress into shining perfection. It appeared to her a crinkled mess of every faulty aspect of her form, and she sighed sharply. _Mother would never approve._ Her hair was too flat, her eyes not glistening enough. Broken, disheveled, never good enough; why did it have to be her? Why did Nate have to look through her; Serena have her sparkling eyes full of pity; Chuck smirk at how shy she was. It wasn't fair. Blair Waldorf was—_Blair Waldorf_. She wasn't supposed to have insecurities; doubts; inhibitions. Running a knuckle down her dress again, nothing seemed right. _You're nowhere near prepared for tonight_, the mirror seemed to tell her icily as she centered her silver headband a tad more. The accessory was as centered as it could possibly get, but the illusion of being able to fix her flaws was far too alluring. Pale from the stress, Blair turned from the mirror before it could taunt her again. She was alone. A vacant chill encircled her body, and she couldn't shake the goose-bumps. People wondered why she was so untouchable. The answer was simple: no one cared. She hadn't had a comforting hug, reassuring hand on the shoulder, or supportive smile in—she couldn't even remember. It had been a while since her world was actually as perfect as she still pretended it to be. Vera Wang and Gucci could only be her friends for so long. Louis wasn't much comfort anymore, and Sax was as unresponsive as her father. Bendel's was the only one left that hadn't outstayed its welcome in her lonely life, but the memories of her and Serena there were swiftly changing that. Everyone left her. Digging the heel of her silver shoe into the lush carpet, she felt the knot tighten in her stomach. Breathing slowly, she knew she couldn't go on like this. Someone, anyone, would be comfort enough. Well, other than her mother who was still waltzing around the Parisian streets, Serena still as distant as when she was in Connecticut: the two people she wished to talk to most. Blair grabbed her phone, harshly pressing the buttons with her nail.

"Hello?" A bland and groggy voice answered, and she bit her lip.

"Nate, I—uh," she put a hand to her forehead, "do you have time to talk?" Blair sat on her bed, pulling her knees to her chest. She could sense the vacancy on the other end of the phone.

"Right now?" Nate replied. Blair ground her teeth. His distance was breaking her heart. In the past year, she'd lost count of how many times Nathaniel Archibald had broke her.

"Yeah, right now," she said with a bit more attitude. Couldn't he see she was hurting? Realize that she needed the childhood friend she'd grown to love and depend on? Nate Archibald used to be such a sanctuary for her. But they'd grown to be nothing more than figureheads in a relationship far from genuine. Blair missed him: _her _Nate.

"Look, Blair, there's a lot going on at the moment, so I can't." There was a pause. "But soon, we really should."

The call was ended before Blair could respond, and she felt the tears beginning to form. She hastily dialed another number.

"Waldorf," the classically sarcastic voice answered, "I thought you had a policy of not talking to anyone before a big event." Obviously taunting her 'ridiculous' traditions, Blair huffed.

"And I thought you had a policy of not caring about anything," she shot back. Calling Chuck Bass wasn't the brightest of choices she knew, but he was the only one. And though her heart was twisting and her stomach churning, the attention Chuck gave her was good enough.

"I may not care, but I certainly am curious as to why you called." At least Chuck wondered what her call was about; even Nate hadn't seemed to care her reason.

She sighed deeply, closing her eyes. "I know we don't usually _talk_, about actual _things, _but uh…" she bit her lip. "I really do need to talk someone… to… you…" It came out all wrong. Awkward, tight, and nothing she should ever say to Chuck Bass. But she'd done it.

"Isn't that what your boyfriend and best friend are for?"

"Well that's just it. They're part of the prob—" she stopped. "Why am I even talking to you about this?" Blair hit her forehead with her phone. She was an idiot. Talking to Chuck about problems? Who the hell did that?

"Because you want to," Chuck replied. There was something in his voice. Blair couldn't quite figure out what it was, but it was calming. A strange sensation went through her chest.

"But you won't listen," she said quietly.

"Try me."

"Okay," she started hesitantly, "I feel like I'm all alone. Serena never really came back from boarding school, Nate hasn't seemed to care in months, and my mother hasn't been the same since my dad left. And my dad—he's gone too. I don't know why everyone leaves." Blair laughed sadly. "And to top it all off, I'm talking about this with Chuck Bass. God, what's wrong with me?"

"When you said talk, I didn't know you meant a monologue," Chuck returned sarcastically.

"Look," she said sharply, "calling _you _of all people was mortifying enough. I know you love your games, but don't do this right now. Either help me, or I'm hanging up and you better not even _think _of speaking to me at the party tonight, or breathe a word of this to anyone."

"You don't give me enough credit," he said. Blair couldn't quite detect exactly what his tone was.

"The sad part is you think you actually deserve it." The bantering was helping her mood more than she'd like to admit. But Chuck was charming, calming, everything she needed. Blair couldn't deny her feelings for the Bass, but the chain Nate had around her ankle kept her from doing anything. Chuck would break her heart. _But could he really do anything worse to than Nate has? _

"Serena is Serena; she does what she wants. Nate isn't as complex as you'd like him to be, and your mother and father obviously handle situations in ways no child would ever want. Call your dad; he may be more willing to talk than you think. Try your best to incorporate yourself in your mother's world, and don't take no for an answer. Let Serena be, and maybe consider dropping the habit of Nathaniel. Was that what you wanted to hear?"

"I wanted to hear an honest opinion, maybe an 'it'll be okay'. But dropping Nate? Letting Serena be?" Blair shook her head. She couldn't. Though they weren't here for her now, they still reminded her of what used to be. She couldn't let them go. Not yet at least. It would break her heart leaving them as much as it did staying with them.

"If they can't appreciate what it's like to have you in their lives, then they don't deserve you. Let them find that out for themselves."

"Why is it you're helping me again?" She wanted to hear something sweet; something to let her know he felt the same about her, as she did for him. Blair held her breath.

"I'm not," he said, though Blair didn't want to believe it for a second. "I'll see you tonight."

* * *

Dear god was this an awful chapter! Writing at two in the morning obviously isn't a good idea. But I'm easing back into the GG world after vacation, and am still working out the plot for what'll happen at the Kiss on the Lips party. So please, I know this chapter is very short, probably extremely AU/OOC, but please don't kill me. I need to show Chuck actually cares (and Blair needs to realize it), so please go easy on me for this chapter. I promise ten billion times that the next chapter will actually be good (I hope). Haha, sorry, I'm just always paranoid about my writing, especially when it comes to C+B… Review anyway?

_Reviews are love! _


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